


Start With a Larger Pot [The Careful Cooking Overdub]

by theladyscribe



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Comfort Food, Foodie Steve, Gen, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 05:18:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1254295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyscribe/pseuds/theladyscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Steve cooked and one time he ate.</p><p>("I think careful cooking is love, don't you? The loveliest thing you can cook for someone who's close to you is about as nice a Valentine as you can give." -Julia Child)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Start With a Larger Pot [The Careful Cooking Overdub]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tieleen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tieleen/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Start With a Larger Pot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/429312) by [Tieleen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tieleen/pseuds/Tieleen). 



> Many thanks to Aenaria and newredshoes for their beta work. All mistakes are my own.
> 
> Foodie!Steve is one of my favorite versions of Steve, so I really enjoyed the chance to write this. ♥

_I think careful cooking is love, don't you? The loveliest thing you can cook for someone who's close to you is about as nice a Valentine as you can give. -Julia Child_

*

When he gets home, Bucky is still wrapped in blankets on the bed where Steve left him.

"How're ya feeling?" Steve asks as he pulls out the handful of groceries he picked up.

"Quit puking a couple hours ago," Bucky tells him as he sits up slowly. "Not sure if it's 'cause I'm better or 'cause I'm empty."

Steve nods; he's had more than his share of days like that. "I got chicken bones from the butcher. I'll make you some soup."

"You know, you should probably stay at Mrs. O'Sullivan's until I'm over this. Wouldn't want you getting it, too."

"Don't be stupid, Buck. I'm not _that_ fragile." It's a lie — it's a miracle they're not _both_ laid up with whatever it is Bucky's got. Steve can feel his eyes following him as he puts together the broth, but to his credit, Bucky doesn't argue the point.

Steve has the bones simmering before Bucky speaks again. "Hey, punk. Thanks."

"Of course."

*

"I thought you left," Mignonette says from the doorway. She has a simple cotton robe tied around her and a cigarette dangling from her fingers. She looks beautiful in the early morning light, and Steve wishes he had time to draw her just like that.

Instead, he shrugs and turns back to the bread he's toasting over the open flame on the stove. " _Je suis faim_."

Mignonette laughs, more loudly than Steve thinks his terrible accent warrants. He pulls the bread from the flame and offers her a piece.

"It is 'faim,' isn't it? That's 'hungry,' right?"

" _Oui_ ," she says, a smile playing at her lips, "but I think you mean 'j'ai faim,' not 'je suis.' It is not quite the same."

"What's 'je suis faim,' then?"

"It still means 'hungry,' but I think I satisfied that last night."

"Oh." Steve tries to will away the blush he can feel creeping across his cheeks.

"Unless, of course, you would like another serving?" She lifts a perfect eyebrow, obviously amused by his embarrassment.

"They'll be needing me back at camp. I've already been gone longer than I should."

" _Bien sur_." She takes a bite of her toast and wrinkles her nose. "Perhaps when you come back this way, I can teach you better French, and how to make toast."

Steve laughs. "I'd like that."

*

The first few weeks after he wakes up are the hardest.

He's subjected to a crash course in history, a never-ending series of psych evaluations and medical tests, and the nightmare that is navigating a city he both remembers and barely recognizes.

The only solace he finds is the food.

His neighborhood still has a real butcher, a bakery, and an excellent green grocer, as well as a number of apparently inexpensive restaurants (the cost of a cup of coffee is something he'll never get over). Today, he has a hankering for roast, so he stops at the butcher and gets a London broil from Ricardo before he heads to the grocer.

Misha has red potatoes and purple carrots on sale, and Steve only raises an eyebrow when the man tucks two Granny Smiths into his bag without ringing them up.

"Make yourself something sweet tonight, Steve," Misha says with a smile as he hands over the bag of groceries. "It's a good day for pie."

Steve smiles back. "Isn't it always a good day for pie?"

He steps out into the late afternoon sun, and he can almost — almost — pretend that nothing changed in the years he slept away.

*

Steve's alarm goes off at six, and he rolls out of bed with a sigh, turning the radio on as he walks to the bathroom. He'd like to sleep a while longer, but if he does, he'll be late to the soup kitchen.

He brushes his teeth and washes his face, scratching at the day's growth of beard but not bothering with shaving. He dresses in jeans and a t-shirt, pulls on a ballcap, grabs his bag, and heads out the door.

He gets to CHiPS just as Theo and Kate are opening the doors.

"Steve, how many times do I have to tell you not to be so perky when you first get here?" Kate grouses as she lets him in.

"It's the walk," he says with a smile. "All that fresh air, can't help but wake a fella up." They walk down the hall to the kitchen, flicking on lights as they go.

"So, what's on the menu today?" Steve asks when they get to the pantry.

"Breakfast casserole," says Theo from behind him. "We've got a bunch of bread that's about to go stale, and there's turkey sausage, so we can do a meat version and a vegetarian one. There's also gonna be oatmeal and fresh fruit. How're your knife skills, Steve-o?"

Steve sets to work slicing apples as more volunteers start trickling in and helping. By the time the dining room opens at nine, they've diced nearly twenty pounds of fruit, baked five huge casseroles (with two more ready to go in the oven for late-comers), and made fifteen gallons of coffee. Steve grabs a serving spoon and takes his place in the assembly line with a smile on his face.

*

Steve stays at the Tower sometimes, if there's a chance they'll be suiting up, or if he's working on a project, or if the weather's bad, like tonight. The city is buried under a foot of snow, and it's still coming down.

The team came in on the Quinjet just ahead of the storm, so he isn't the only one spending the night. Natasha and Clint have settled in for the evening, and Bruce and Tony are in the process of teaching Thor how to play "Go Fish."

Steve is starving, but there's no way he's going to call for pizza, and Pepper sent the housekeeping staff home early. They only keep snack food in the kitchen on the guest floor, so Steve asks Jarvis to let him into the restaurant kitchen two floors down.

"Jarvis, please make sure to order replacements for anything I use in here," Steve tells the AI. "And charge it to my bank account."

"Duly noted, Captain. Shall I retrieve recipes that can be made with the ingredients on hand?"

Steve smiles as he pulls beets and carrots from the cool storage. "That won't be necessary, thanks." He pauses. "You can let the others know where I am, though. Tell them dinner will be ready in an hour."

*

It's barely nine o'clock when Steve gets home from fighting Doom-bots all day in Miami. He's exhausted, so he drops his bag and collapses into bed, barely sparing time to kick off his shoes.

He wakes up in the middle of the night, stomach growling. He stumbles into his kitchen, grabs a spoon and the jar of peanut butter, and digs in.

**Author's Note:**

> [CHiPS](http://chipsonline.org/) is an actual shelter/soup kitchen in Brooklyn. "Je suis faim" is improper grammar, and it also has the connotation of being sexually hungry.
> 
> Feedback is loved.


End file.
